She thought she should feel bad about taking a man’s life, but she didn’t. When Leo told her he was dead, the only thing she could think was, “Why didn’t I do that to the other two?”

 

Tonight, though, something else had to take a beating, and she was in the perfect mood to start a fight.

 

When she walked through the doors, she scanned the long wide room. As luck would have it, five of the men who had come over to Yvette’s house and told her things like, “Just say the word,” and, “We know who it is, we got your back,” and similar things, giving Bev the whore eye when she told them Leo was with her that night, were nicely gathered together.

 

“Sorry boys, it just ain’t your day,” she growled as she walked up to the largest of them and sized him up. “Hey, you say I’m lying about Leo being with me on Monday?”

 

The big man looked at her. “I’m saying you’re a cheap fucking whor—”

 

Bev hit him. She didn’t hit him like a girl. She hit him like the daughter of a Recon master sergeant.

 

The blow surprised him more than hurt him, as she knew it would — she was going for speed, not power. When the big man’s head snapped back from her punch to his jaw, she balled up her left fist, extending her thumb just a little so her fist looked like a rock with a nail sticking out, and she drove that nail right into the man’s Adam’s apple.

 

Reflexively, he dropped his beer bottle and clutched his throat, displaying universal sign language for ‘I can’t fucking breathe, someone help!’ But she wasn’t done with him yet. Her knee came up as her hands grabbed the man’s shoulders, and she pulled and kneed him as hard as she could in the balls.

 

Again, the man’s body responded with reflex and doubled over, but instead of backing up, she went into his gut shoulder first, knees bent. As his weight curled around his gut, she took him up with her arms, rolling him across her back and shoulders, and then shot up as hard as she could with her thighs.

 

It looked like she threw him onto that table. It really did. Actually, she had just let his own weight roll across her shoulders — a major difference in the amount of strength required — but it looked impressive as hell.

 

The man hit the table with his back and lay sprawled across it as she walked up to him. “Whore, huh? Well, you’ve just been fucked, so I’ll take my fucking money, dickweed!”

 

She turned with challenge in her eyes. “Now,” she shouted to a near-silent audience, “who the fuck is next?”

 

There was quiet and shock, and then a voice behind her said, “Yes, please. Step up and call Bev a liar to her face. I haven’t had a good fight in, tsk, tsk, years, really.”

 

She turned and there was Preston, the dark, major heartthrob, and the sergeant at arms for the Sinners.

 

She remembered he was married and turned her attention back to the group she had first approached.

 

“You!” She pointed at one of the men at the bar. “Alright, mister, just give the word. That’s what you say to a grieving widow? That you’ll be happy to kill the wrong man for her? Step the fuck up!”

 

He stayed where he was, and even turned away.

 

“Then you! Mr. We all know who did it, come on.… I couldn’t do it in front of Yvette, but I can do it here. I can do it all fucking night! Step up and call me a liar!”

 

Again, this one turned away. She knew it was Preston behind her that was doing most of the scaring, but she had a strong suspicion that the blood stains across her body might have something to do with it, too.

 

“Alright, how about that group that wants to hang outside Leo’s house and jump him when he gets home? I should let you fucking try that. There you are. You five right there.” She pointed to them, walking straight at them.

 

One of them came at her. “You don’t want to bring that sh—”

 

She went into a blur of speed as she closed distance, skipping a step and spearing into his gut an organ-bursting side kick that lifted the man off the floor and sent him back a foot to land on his ass. Bev never stopped moving, though, shifting her weight and pouncing, following him all the way down. Then, grabbing him by his scalp, she hammered her fist into his forehead with a furious scream. The man’s eyes rolled and she dropped his head, hearing it thunk on the floor.

 

Then Preston moved past her. “My turn. Very sweet, Bev, but my turn.”

 

The remaining four ran.

 

Bev watched them go, a snarl on her face. Then she turned to the club and said in a clear, calm voice, “I’ll be at Yvette’s house every day until she can bear to be alone again. I swear to you the club and to God above, I won’t wait for you to show up here. I’ll fucking break you off right in front of her.”

 

Then she turned, nodded to Preston, who gave her a salute, and strode for the doors of the club.

 

Then Preston’s voice rose up, cultured and thick with sappy sexiness. “Just one thing to add to Bev’s challenge. If you touch her, you deal with me. I don’t care if it is a kick, a poke, or a dirty look. You will answer to me and the rough riders. I will not be understanding. I will not listen to your reasons. I will not care about your grief. She stood up for Yvette when none of you fuckers would. She was who Yvette called when she needed someone she knew would show up. She is the one who has been there for her every day. So, you worthless rumor-humping whores, I say, shut the fuck up.”

 

Bev walked out into the night and got on her bike. She started the engine and slowly left the parking lot. She road home with a glide, and she soothed herself with the sway of the bike and the vibrations between her legs.

 

“All I need now is a hot bath,” she said to the night sky, and she gave the bike a little more gas as she thought of a very large tub that had recently acquired oils.

 

Her first thought as she slipped with a sigh into the hot bath was, “Who are the rough riders?”

 

Her next thought was to call Danny.

 

“Danny?”

 

“Bev? What can I do for you?”

 

“Danny, tonight after I got home from Yvette’s, three men invaded my home with the intent to rape, torture, and then finally, when they were done laughing, to kill me.”

 

Danny was silent, she wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

 

“I learned through these men that they were Vasquez cartel men. I’ve had enough time to process and play connect the dots, and I can’t think of anyone, except for perhaps Leo — if one-fifth of what I think is true — who could possibly understand the risks the way I do. So, with that, I want in. I want to help Leo, you, and the rest of the club. I want to have a chance at finding the killer so Yvette can get some sleep.”

 

“And what do you want?” he asked.

 

“I … I just said what I wanted.”

 

“No, how much are you looking for in payment?”

 

“Payment? Danny, with all due respect, weren’t you listening? They came into my home, Danny. They came in there and told me that I was just a body to them. That I had no value. I don’t want payment, Danny, I want to sleep better.”

 

After nearly a minute, Danny said, “Alright, I’ll talk it over and we’ll see if there is a place we can use you. We’re actually near the end, see, and honestly, it’s all on Leo now. But I will talk and discuss. Can you tell me everything? For example, where are the bodies? Apparently you are quite capable with that knife of yours.”

 

She laughed. “Not that capable. The man that was on me, his skill, it was inhuman, Danny. I mean, people don’t move that way, but he did.”

 

“So you had help?”

 

“Yes. Leo recognized the truck the men were using, and he came in just in time. I was holding my own for a bit, but then this other guy comes out of nowhere and I’m a rag doll again. So, Leo shot one of them dead, I killed one as they were coming through the door, and we both mangled up this guy name Ernesto pretty bad. But Leo said he needed him alive.”

 

“I never meant him to take it that far, no,” Danny whispered.

 

“Leo isn’t supposed to kill anyone in the inner circle, right?” she prodded.

 

“Well, that isn’t quite the directive, but close enough. But after this—“

 

“Don’t worry, he told me Ernesto was only going to live for another hour. But his death needed to serve our purposes.”

 

“Leo’s diplomatic skills are quite impressive. So, if he has a purpose, it is likely going to work out for him. Did he tell you about his errands for me?”

 

“No, he hasn’t said anything, Danny! He’s completely secret squirrel.”

 

“Secret squirrel. Ha, I like that. Yes, well, I’ll talk to him. It may be good for him to have someone he can discuss things with. Pillow talk. That sort of thing. Yes, I’ll talk to him and see what he thinks.”

 

“That would be nice, Danny. Like you said, it is reaching the end, so I’m guessing that, like any countdown, there is an explosion at the end. I would like to know what Leo knows before that explosion comes.”